


The taste of your coffee-stained lips (on mine)

by fanficloverme96



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, Mistletoes, Ti's the season, harry being clueless, louis wants a special mistletoe kiss, moments are important see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficloverme96/pseuds/fanficloverme96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Niall begins slowly, “-but isn’t it a little too early for the mistletoe?”</p><p>Louis swallows the pancake and reaches for his mug of coffee. “It’s for Christmas, you know that,” he replies before chugging the contents of the mug. </p><p>“Christmas is in a week.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“Too early?” Niall prompts. Louis waves him off. </p><p>“It’s never too early for mistletoe.”</p><p>(or the time Louis wants a mistletoe kiss from Harry but the boy just doesn't /get/ it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The taste of your coffee-stained lips (on mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snsk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/gifts).



> Wrote this while jammin to Christmas songs.

There is mistletoe hanging at the kitchen archway.

“Louis,” says Niall.

“Mm?” Louis inclines his head towards the boy, his mouth full of pancakes. There is syrup dripping down his chin.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Niall begins slowly, “-but isn’t it a little too early for the mistletoe?”

Louis swallows the pancake and reaches for his mug of coffee. “It’s for Christmas, you know that,” he replies before chugging the contents of the mug.

“Christmas is in a week.”

“So?”

“Too early?” Niall prompts. Louis waves him off.

“It’s never too early for mistletoe.”

“He’s just looking for a reason to kiss dear Harold,” says Liam’s disembodied voice. The boy himself steps into the kitchen moments later, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. Zayn follows soon after, his hair still mussed from sleep. He blinks sleepily at Niall and Louis as a sort of greeting.

Louis snorts in his mug. “Good morning, my lovely pair of sunshines.”

Zayn takes a seat across him and looks at the empty plate in front of him with a half-lidded stare. He looks half-dead and it’s nine o’clock in the morning. Liam pats his shoulder comfortingly and sits beside him, throwing Louis a look when the boy laughs.

“Leave him be. He slept late last night,” he chides.

Louis grins cheekily. “I can’t imagine what he might be doing so late at night.”

Liam sighs and shakes his head, ignoring the jab. “Where’s Harry?”

“Gone for a jog,” says Niall cheerfully, “Woke up earlier than any of us.”

“Didn’t even leave a bloody note,” Louis grumbles, “And my plan for stealing a kiss had been so wonderful, too.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, seemingly awake now. “If you want to kiss him so much, just do it. You’re going out already, anyway.”

Louis pretends to look affronted. “Zayn! You simply don’t understand the importance of moments!” He stabbed his fork into his remaining pancake with sudden viciousness. “While it is true we are going out, we have yet to share a kiss, you know.”

Three pairs of eyes meet his judgingly. Liam even raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, lies,” Louis concedes, “But is it so wrong I want to have a special kind of kiss every once in a while?”

“Hence, the mistletoe.” Niall nods to himself, even looking a bit impressed.

“Exactly. Now I have to look for ways for Harry to notice it without seeming obvious.”

Liam sighs and props his chin on his hands. “Such efforts just for a kiss, which,” he pauses before smiling, “you could easily just ask for it, you know. Knowing Harry, he’d be happy to comply.”

“It’s Christmas!” Louis insists, “Well, not yet but soon, and I want to make it special. What’s more special than a Christmas kiss? Right, Zayn?”

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” Zayn deadpans, but upon receiving Louis’s withering look, he concedes. “But I see your point.” Louis gives him a satisfied smile after that.

The boy claps his hands together. “All right, then! It’s set. The three of you, don’t say a word about this, okay? I want him to figure it out on his own.”

“Who figure what out?”

Harry chooses this moment to stride into the kitchen, totally missing the mistletoe hanging by the archway. He leans against the kitchen counter, his tank top drenched with sweat. His hair is mussed up from the wind and his cheeks are slightly red from exertion. Ear phone wires dangle around his neck.

He looks so good that Louis fights the urge to just kiss him right there and then, mistletoe or not.

“Nothing,” Louis replies cheerfully, “Welcome back, love. Had a nice run?”

Harry blinks and smiles a slightly confused smile. “Okay?”

Louis returns the smile, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Behind him, Liam, Zayn and Niall sigh.

* * *

 

*

It’s been six bloody hours and Harry bloody Styles has not even noticed the bloody damn mistletoe.

 _“Excessive use of the word bloody,”_ Stan comments on the phone. Louis must have spoken his thoughts out loud again. He needs to work on that.

Louis groans. “Like, _really_? Do I have to point it out to him?”

_“That’s not a bad idea.”_

“Beyond the point, Stan! It’s supposed to be romantic. But _no_ , Harry bloody too-busy-to-even-look-up Styles doesn’t even notice the thing!”

Stan lets out a breath as if greatly prevailed upon. _“What’s the big deal, anyway? If you want a kiss that badly, just go over there and kiss the life out of him, already.”_

“Moments, Stan, moments!” Louis practically cries into the phone before stopping himself. Harry is still in the house somewhere and it would not do him good if he overhears the conversation. He drops his voice to a whisper. “I want it to be special and romantic and spectacular. Something he won’t forget….like the Notebook.”

He hears Stan snorts. _“You’ll need rain if you want to re-enact the Notebook, Lou.”_

“Again, beyond the point. Is it so hard for him to look up and notice the mistletoe? I’ve been hanging around the kitchen long enough that Harry’s starting to worry I may develop a sudden excessive craving for food. I want him to look up and notice the mistletoe and go ‘Oh look, a mistletoe. How’d that get there?’ or something in his ridiculous yet endearing slow way of speaking and I just want to be there and let the moment happen and _then_ we kiss and-,” Louis pauses for breath before continuing, _“Do you understand?”_

 _“Yes, Louis. I understand perfectly. I understand your carefully elaborate plan which sole purpose is to gain a kiss from the famous Harry Styles, which I might add, is your boyfriend, so hence such elaborate plan is actually pretty excessive and a bit redundant. But yes, I understand,”_ Stan deadpans.

“Everyone here is a critic,” Louis grumbles, “You, Zayn, Niall and Liam are soulless, heartless and unsympathetic critics.”

 _“Love you too!”_ Stan replies cheerfully before hanging up on him. The bloody bastard.

“Who’s a bloody bastard?” Harry asks, walking into the room. He smells like floral shampoo and body wash which means, he already showered and dressed for the evening.

“Nothing,” Louis mumbles and walks past him. He catches a whiff as he does. Damn, Harry smells good.

“Okay, then,” Harry says uncertainly.

* * *

 

*

Eleanor visits the next day.

Louis is busy cooking lunch when he hears footsteps and keys being placed onto the kitchen counter.

“Why is there mistletoe up there?” a female voice asks. Louis looks up from the pot and sees Eleanor looking at the mistletoe with a curious expression.

“For Christmas,” Louis replies simply.

“That’s not for another week,” Eleanor points out.

“Never too early for mistletoe,” Louis insists, stirring the soup in the pot, “What are you doing here anyway, El?” he asks.

“Liam invited me for lunch. He says you’re cooking. You know I never miss an opportunity to taste your cooking.” She walks over to Louis and peers over his shoulder. She wrinkles her nose, lips pulling into an exasperated frown when she sees the soup Louis’s stirring.

“Chicken soup again, Louis?” she whines.

“Among the others, Eleanor,” says Louis, “If you want quality cooking, you’ll have to ask Hazza for that.”

“Where is he anyway?”

“Not here where he should be, that’s for sure,” Louis mutters, sounding annoyed even to him. Eleanor raises an eyebrow.

“What’s with that tone?” she asks curiously, “Having problems already?”

Louis stops stirring and faces Eleanor, who is already leaning against the kitchen counter. “He doesn’t get it!” he cries after a moment of consideration. He jabs a finger towards the mistletoe. “Everyone in this damn house noticed that except him.”

Eleanor glances at the said mistletoe. “What about it?”

“El,” he says, trying not to whine, “I want to kiss him so badly, don’t you understand?”

The girl blinks. She fails to understand the problem. “So? Do you need my permission or something?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, let me clarify. I want Harry to look up at the mistletoe and go ‘well, you look at that’ or something like that and notice me noticing him noticing the mistletoe. And I want him to smile so slyly like he usually does when he thinks I don’t know what he’s thinking and I want him to pull me in and…” he falters, “…well, kiss me.”

“And you’re mad because...?” Eleanor prompts.

“Because he doesn’t notice the mistletoe!” Louis throws his arms up in exasperation. “That is the most important and essential part of the whole plan!”

Rolling her eyes, Eleanor takes a seat on one of the counter stools and studies her nails. “If you want him to notice it so badly, why don’t you hint about it? Give subtle clues or something.”

“No,” Louis says stubbornly, “I want him to figure it out on his own.”

“Masochist,” Eleanor mumbles under breath.

“Um, guys?”

Heads turn to see Harry standing by the kitchen archway, the mistletoe right above him. He walks past it without a single glance upwards. Urgh, Louis resists the urge to strangle him.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever you guys are talking about but…” Harry turns to Louis with a tiny smile, “Lou?”

Louis blinks. “Yeah?”

“The cookies you’re baking in the oven?”

“What about them?”

“They’re burning.”

Ah, crap.

* * *

 

*

Three days later and Harry still hasn’t noticed the mistletoe. Louis thinks Harry might be screwing with him. (In a figurative sense, of course, but the literal sense works, too)

“You seem distracted, Lou,” Harry murmurs, his lips tracing the inside of Louis’s thighs. Louis fights down a shiver and his hands fist in the sheets. He hears a chuckle, all low and husky before he feels something warm and wet enveloping his cock.

That bloody bastard.

“Who is-ah!- distracted, you arse?” Louis chokes out, back arching off the bed as Harry licks the base of Louis’ half-hard cock. Louis is trying so hard to bite down his moans –because goddammit, there are three other boys in the house and the walls are so damn thin- and he buries his face in the pillows.

He comes mere moments later.

Harry looks at Louis. His pupils are blown and his grin is wicked. He kisses his way up of Louis body, lips brushing the skin in a way that makes Louis groan. “You-mmph- are so full of-ah!- it, Hazza,” he whispers as Harry peppers butterfly kisses all over his collarbone.

“It’s several days till Christmas,” Harry laughs against his neck, “Must make it special.”

Christmas.

Louis’s half-opened eyes widen. Of course, he nearly forgets.

When Harry tries to kiss him on the lips, Louis presses a finger against Harry’s own lips and tuts, earning a confused look from the boy. “No, no. Not there,” says Louis, sitting up.

“What do you mean?” Harry tries to kiss him again but Louis merely shakes his head, smiling slyly. “No, Harry, not there. Not now, anyway.”

“Louis?” Harry watches in puzzlement as Louis gets up from the bed and walks towards the bathroom. “Are you-?”

“Gonna take a shower before I go to sleep,” Louis calls out from the bathroom, “You should to.”

“What did I do?” Harry asks and Louis pauses, noticing how his voice sounds like a wounded puppy yipping. He sighs and suppresses his intentions to go over there and hug him.

“Nothing. Just….I just feel tired all of a sudden. I’m going to sleep soon. You should to.” And he closes the door, not wanting to watch the look on Harry’s face. He could feel his confusion all the way over here and he convinces himself this is just punishment for not noticing the mistletoe.

A kiss on the lips will only be earned through that, he thinks to himself resolutely.

“Louis?” Harry calls out timidly.

“Mm?” Louis makes his voice nonchalant.

There is a pause. He hears an exhale of breath. “Nothing,” he hears Harry say at last, “Goodnight.”

“…Goodnight, Harry.”

Dammit, now he feels bad. But when he opens the door, Harry is already out of his bedroom.

* * *

 

*

“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” Harry moans morosely, sitting on the couch dejectedly.

“Harry, you’re dying,” Liam points out,

“I know,” Harry moans again, “I might as well be dead for making Louis mad at me.”

“No, Harry, I mean you’re dying. About to be shot by three soldiers or run over a tank,” Liam insists.

Harry looks at Liam oddly. “You don’t have to be so creative about it.”

Liam sighs and grabs the game console out of Harry’s hands. “I mean, your character, you arse.” On the TV screen, the soldier named Hazza is shot down by four enemy soldiers. He drops dead. Liam groans.

“Oh,” says Harry simply, “Rest in peace, soldier.” He winces when the body is run over a tank. “Or…pieces.” He puts the game console onto the table and sighs. “Liam, is Louis mad at me?”

“What makes you say that?” Liam asks absently, his eyes glued to screen.

“Well, during sex last night-,” He pauses when Liam throws him a withering look. “What? You might as well know.”

“I wanted to dismiss what I heard last night as an imagination, thank you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Like you didn’t screw Zayn in the very same house.”

“You were saying about Louis being mad at you?” Liam says quickly. Dammit, his character is being stalked and he can’t identify the enemy. Liam doesn’t need this.

“Right, anyway, during sex last night, I wanted to kiss Louis…like you know, on the lips-,”

“What are you guys talking about?” says Niall as he walks into the living room.

“Harry’s sex life,” Liam replies. Niall grins, grabbing the game console and revives Harry’s fallen character back to life. “Interesting topic to talk about on a Sunday afternoon,” he comments as he shoots down a general. Liam reaches over Harry and gives Niall a high five.

Harry huffs. “You guys.”

“Mm? Take that!” Niall gives a victory cry when he kills a group of soldiers. “You were talking about your sex life—yes!!!” he says, pumping his fist in the air and sharing a grin with Liam. Harry rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. He grabs a remote control and clicks pause.

The image goes still and Liam and Niall throw him a protesting look. “Listen to me,” Harry presses, “It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Anything that concerns your dick is life and death,” Liam protests, ducking a pillow being thrown his way. Niall laughs and Harry throws his arms in exasperation.

“You guys! I kinda need you guys to listen before Zayn and Lou come home from grocery shopping so…” he fixes them a stare, “Hear me out.”

Niall and Liam glance at each other before shrugging. “What’s up?” Liam asks.

Harry hesitates, biting his lip. “I think Louis is mad at me.”

“You said something about sex—what?” Niall holds up his hands when Liam raises his eyebrow, “That’s what he said!”

“He won’t let me kiss him!” Harry cries, seemingly unable to hold it in any longer.

There is a pause.

“It started last night when we were having sex,” Harry babbles on, “I thought, okay, maybe he’s just tired or whatever but this morning when I tried to kiss him again before he left, he stopped me again! What did I even do? You guys….” he moans, before burying his head in his hands.

There is another lengthy pause. Liam and Niall share a look.

“Tell me…” Liam says finally and slowly, “When you said Louis won’t let you kiss him, you mean on the lips right?”

“No, on his forehead.” Harry shoots him a miserable look. “Where do you _think_ I mean?”

“Ah,” Niall nods solemnly to himself, “Sarcasm. A sign of good health.”

Liam pats Harry comfortingly on the shoulder. “I’m your friend and I love you therefore I’m going to ignore that jab. And buddy, you’re lucky to have a friend like me.”

“Your point?” Harry asks, his voice muffled by his hands.

“Liam’s point is, Harry, buddy,” Niall cuts in cheerfully, “We know the solution…or well, the cause at least, of your predicament.”

Harry looks up and turns to both of them curiously. “What do you mean?”

Grinning, Niall and Louis point at the kitchen archway. Harry glances at it, not really comprehending, before his eyes caught sight of something hanging on the archway. He squints to get a better look.

It is the mistletoe.

“Huh,” says Harry, “How did that get there?” He shakes his head. “Never mind that, what does a mistletoe plant has anything to do with Lou--,”

Mistletoe.

Kissing.

Oh.

_Oh._

“Liam, buddy, I think our dear Harold gets it,” Niall smiles.

“I think he has,” Liam agrees.

* * *

 

*

It is the 24th of December. Christmas’s Eve and Louis’ birthday.

And Louis Tomlinson is fucking depressed.

“Hey now,” Zayn ruffles his hair, “What’s with the sour look?”

“I feel like murdering someone,” Louis mutters darkly.

He wakes up in a foul mood despite today being his birthday. Well, no, not actually. He wakes up with an okay mood. He wakes up with a brilliant mood, even. He has full expectations for today. Good things always happen on his birthday. And with his mom coming over, whom he hasn’t seen in like several months, he looks forward for the day.

But.

Harry the bloody idiot has yet to notice the mistletoe and the worst part is the mistletoe itself is gone. It has been removed from the kitchen archway and all his friends in the house denied doing it.  Louis looked high and low for it but it as if the plant just vanished into thin air.

Goddammit.

“You’re not even drunk yet,” Liam answers cheerfully, waltzing into the dining room carrying two bottles of red wine, “One does not go on a murder spree without having a drink.”

Louis glares at him. “I don’t want to be drunk. I want to murder someone. It’s my birthday. I ought to murder someone as a birthday present.”

Liam and Zayn look unperturbed by Louis’s foul mood and continue to pester him with jokes before Niall arrives with the food. The food lavishly prepared by Niall and Louis’ mom smell delicious and probably taste as good as they smell but Louis merely glances at it with a disinterested look.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when his mom pinches his cheek. “Come now. Don’t look so angry on such a happy occasion,” his mom chides him.

Louis rubs his cheek absently. “Sorry,” he mumbles. His mom clicks her tongue and smiles fondly at him but says nothing more. She walks back into the kitchen, presumably to take more food even though there’s more than enough food already and Louis notices something. He glances around the dining room once more just to make sure.

“Where’s Hazza?” he inquires, searching for the familiar curly-haired boy. He’s usually one of the first ones down for dinner.

For some reason, his three friends glance at each other with some sort of conspiring look, as if sharing some private joke. Niall chuckles lowly and Liam merely shrugs, his grin slightly more subdued than the rest but still rather wide. It is Zayn who speaks first as the boy takes a sit across Louis.

“He won’t be joining us,” he says, “At least, not yet. He has something to do.”

Louis huffs, his face twisting into a scowl. “Really?” he replies, his tone bitter.

His mom comes in then, carrying a bowl of fruit salad and places it on the table. She takes her place at the head of the table and claps her hands together.

“All right then.” She takes a glance at the vacant seat across her. “Right, of course. I forgot Harry won’t be joining us this year.” She purses her lips when she catches Louis’ disgruntled expression and Louis quickly forces a tiny smile towards her. His mom flashes a satisfied smile back and bows her head.

“Right, who would like to say grace?”

Dinner is a quiet affair. Well, quieter than usual, at least. Liam and Zayn throw food at each other despite Johannha’s protests and Niall cracks up at the silliest jokes per usual. The only difference is, without Harry around, Louis is a bit more sullen than usual. That, and the missing mistletoe.

Honestly, he just wants today to be over.

Louis is busy playing with the leftover ravioli on his plate when he hears a door being closed and approaching footsteps on the staircase following soon after. “Harry?” he calls out. But there is no reply. He begins to get up from his seat when he feels a warm touch on his arm.

He turns to see Liam holding his arm and shaking his head.

“I just want to check on him,” Louis insists but Liam’s grip is unrelenting.

“Not yet,” the boy answers, “He’ll tell you later.”

Louis looks puzzled.

His phone vibrates just ten minutes later.

“Ah.” Liam nods to himself and slants a look towards the other occupants of the table. They all nod and begin to stand up.

“Eh? Wait, w-what are you--,” Louis begins but Johannah cuts him with a smile.

“Don’t worry so much, honey. The boys will be hanging out at my place for the time being.”

“Wha—I don’t understa-“

“Might want to check your phone,” Zayn prompts as he helps Liam and Niall to clear the table.

Louis watches on in confusion as the table is being cleared. “Where are you guys going?” he asks for the umpteenth time, “What are you guys planning? You guys!” He looks at his mom desperately. “Mum?”

His mom shakes her head, her smile still intact. “We’ll be back tomorrow morning for Christmas, honey. Give my love to Harry, won’t you?”

What the actual hell?

Before Louis could even comprehend what is going on, his three friends are already buttoning up their coats and heading for the front door. His mom gives him a light peck on the cheek and waves at him cheerfully. Louis waves back uncertainly and looks on as they pile into his mom’s car. Niall pauses by the door and turns to Louis.

“Check your phone, mate,” he says before winking.

Minutes later, they are out of sight.

Louis stands alone outside of the house for a full two minutes. Snow falls onto his hair, making it wet as the snow melts. He jolts out of his thoughts when his phone vibrates again. Fumbling for his phone, he curses under his breath and fishes it out from his pocket before sliding his finger across the screen.

Two messages from Harry himself.

_Come upstairs to your bedroom._

_Louis, I’m waiting._

Is the boy screwing with him?

* * *

 

*

“Harry?”

Louis enters his bedroom cautiously. He flicks on the switch. As soon as light envelopes the room, Louis sees a boy with a familiar face sitting on his bed, his posture completely at ease. The boy is grinning.

 “Louis,”

Harry.

“Harry?” Louis answers uncertainly, “What are you—“

“Look up,” Harry says with a smile, “Look up, Louis.”

Louis stops walking, already only a few steps away from Harry. His lips turn into a puzzled frown but he complies, anyway. He looks up and—

His breath gets caught up in his throat.

The plants, being artfully hanged on the ceiling with pieces of red ribbon—

They look like—

“Mistletoe,” Louis breathes.

Harry nods then, his eyes shining. “You got it.”

“I don’t—“

“Liam told me,” Harry says, quietly now with his head bowed, “About the mistletoe that you hung at the kitchen and how stupid I was for not noticing it earlier.” He rubs his arms a little awkwardly. “I know you wanted me to. So…um, think of this as a …make-up gift. And a birthday gift!” he adds quickly, “Yeah, a birthday gift from me to you.”

Harry just kinda fumbles over his words then, his cheeks reddening slightly. Louis still can’t find the words to say. The mistletoe—they are—

“There are so many,” he whispers. The mistletoes are neatly arranged into some sort of a pattern; sort of like a swirl of mistletoes, so that a majority of the ceiling is covered. How Harry manages to find the time to do all this without Louis finding out he doesn’t even know,

“Um…yeah. Sort of the point.” Harry closes the distance between them and hesitates in front of Louis; just for few breathless seconds before the boy grabs Louis into a hug. And Louis just kinda lets him because he doesn’t really know how to react otherwise. Besides, Harry’s body feels warm and safe and Louis just grips the material of Harry’s shirt and breathes in and out.

Harry smells like vanilla and cinnamon and body wash.

It feels nice.

“Now you can kiss me as many times as you want,” Harry whispers into Louis’s ear.

“Charming from the beginning to the end, aren’t you, Hazza?” Louis laughs softly into Harry’s shoulder. They’re just kinda swaying now to soft background music that Louis barely registers a few seconds ago. Harry laughs along with him and his grip on Louis tightens.

“But of course,” Harry agrees before leaning down and captures Louis’ lips with his own.

In the end, Louis does get his kiss after all. And many kisses follow soon after.

 _“And have yourself a merry little Christmas now,”_ croons the voice on the radio,

Yes, he will.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve! (it's the 24th here lol haha) Also, Happy Birthday ao3 user snsk! And beautiful bb Louis Tomlinson!
> 
> @soverylouvely on Twitter.


End file.
